Lavendir

Alinor, Summerset Isles, 4E 195. 24th of Midyear.

(Edited July 13, 2018)

Every year it comes as no surprise that the 24th of Midyear, the day of celebration for none other than Tiber Septim, will cause some stirring on the Summerset Isles. Everyone who isn't aligned with the Thalmor either celebrates, or generally ignores the festivities across Tamriel.

The Thalmor themselves, however, take extra measures to reinforce their hatred of Tiber Septim, also known as Talos himself. If you worship Talos, know someone who does, or just simply don't care about Talos, then you should do your utmost to not be around the Thalmor on this day, but especially any day. It almost seems as if they train for this day. Many people all throughout Tamriel use the 24th of Midyear to proclaim their love for Talos, giving the Thalmor all the more reason to take their prisoners and make arrests.

The centre of Alinor is bustling with people, regular citizens and Thalmor alike. The sun beats down, and I can't remember a 24th of Midyear where it has ever been anything except ridiculously hot and humid. Since I was just a child I've always been mesmerized by the gigantic glass towers and bridges that form the city's main structures, refracting the sunlight into what my mother always says are 'the most vibrant rainbows that all of Nirn will ever see'. My brother, Vallendrel, and I are manning our usual stand in the Alinor centre marketplace where we sell the books that our parents publish. Spell tomes, cookbooks, children's books, tall tales, historical accounts, memoirs: we have it all. Business is fairly steady most days.

Given that Alinor's Midyear weather is generally composed of sunshine and warm winds, and this marketplace is often booming with crowds, it would only be expected that a Thalmor agent or two will stop by the stand and make purchases from from time-to-time. And today is no exception.

A Thalmor agent strides up to our stand, and judging from the sweat on her golden brow she is clearly suffering from the heat in her uniform. Robes that long and dark clearly don't breathe well. She is clearly not much older than I am, and I'm approaching 102 this year, making us both college-age adults. She folds her gloved hands in front of herself and raises an eyebrow. She radiates distrust.

"Hello, gentlemen. You are Lavendir and Vallendrel, yes?"

I nod. "Yes, I am Lavendir, and this is my brother, Vallendrel. Are you looking for anything specific?"

"Your parents. May I have a word with them? Where are they?" She talks with forced grandeur, but then again, most Altmer do.

"We don't give out their information to strangers," Vallendrel quips, "besides, you know our names already, but who exactly are you?"

"My name is Alonwe," the Thalmor says. "Now, may I speak with them?"

"For what reason?" Vallendrel replies without missing a beat.

"I have a notice for them. A request, really. And I shall only divulge information with them, as my assigned task was to speak with them, not banter with you." She pulls out a sealed envelope and holds it to her chest.

"Well, as I said, we can't help you."

"You do realize you are withholding information from a government official?"

Vallendrel opens his mouth to argue further, but much to our surprise, our mother and father glide over to the stall and all falls quiet.

"Who are you?" My mother inquires.

My mother, Lavender, is unusual-looking for an Altmer. She has bright violet eyes (for which she was named), with long black hair that falls to her hips and very fair skin. She believes she may have some Dunmer heritage, but has never found any solid evidence. Our father Vallendrai, however, looks much like everyone else in Alinor. Tall, golden-skinned, with golden hair cropped at his shoulders and forest-green eyes. I was named after my mother for sharing her appearance, and my brother was named after our father for that same reason.